Expectations
by Fallen Ark Angel
Summary: Should it be a shock to anyone that Annabel and Owen both expect very different things out of each other? - Takes place after Hot and Cold.


Expectations

"Get it away from me! Lucas!"

Owen frowned, glancing out of the living room and into the foyer like area of his girlfriend's house. Lucas and Whitney had just come in, the woman having used her key, and were promptly welcomed by the new house greeter.

"Luke! Get him off! Get him off!"

"God, Whit, calm down. Not that I don't like you all over me, but-"

"Come here, Kuma," Owen sighed as he stood up from the couch and headed over to get the puppy. "Sit. Sit."

Lucas was still in the doorway, grinning like crazy as Whitney hid behind him, an arm wrapped tightly around him. Owen just went over to Kuma, pulling him away from them.

"Where is my stupid sister?" Whitney asked from behind her boyfriend. "She needs to get her stupid dog."

"I'm right here."

Annabel came down the stairs then and Kuma quickly rushed over to her. Whitney's screaming had no doubt bothered him. She quickly picked the puppy up and gave him a kiss on the head.

"Don't reward him for acting like that, Annabel."

"Acting like what, Whitney? He was just greeting you."

"I don't care. He's a little beast and needs to be-"

"You just don't like him because-"

"I actually agree with Whitney," Lucas said as she let him go to glare at her younger sister. "Not because of her reasoning, but because you can't reward a dog for acting badly, Annabel. It's cute now, fine, but when he's eighty pounds of pure muscle, then what? He can't jump on people then."

"Ew, it's going to get bigger?"

Annabel made a face at her sister before looking back at the woman's boyfriend. "Well, he's just a baby."

"Yeah, but you stop a toddler from biting right? So you stop him from jumping." Lucas moved to take his coat off and hang it up. "It's fucking snowing again, you guys know that? I-"

"How would I punish him for jumping?" Annabel asked as Whitney started to take off her boots.

"You hit him," Owen told her.

"Owen-"

"You tap his nose, I mean," he said, figuring that would sound more appealing to her. "Not literally hit."

"You do not," Annabel said. "That's abuse."

"I say you chain him in the backyard for the rest of eternity," Whitney remarked. Lucas was still all grins though.

"You can take him to an obedience school," he suggested. "I mean, if you want. I wouldn't though."

"You wouldn't?"

"Nah. That's for rich white people." Then he paused. "Or maybe you should take him there."

That got him hit by Whitney, but he just kept speaking.

"I can train him if you want," he offered then.

"Really? Would you?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding his head. "For a fee."

"A fee?"

"Yes. I want cookies. A lot of them. Made by your sister. If you can convince her to make me cookies-"

"You can't," Whitney said dryly.

"-then I'll train your dog."

"What if I give you twenty bucks?"

"Sold. Your cookies are crap anyways, Whit. Stick to pie."

"Oh, go die."

Lucas went over to Annabel then, holding out his hands. Then he took her dog from her. "The first lesson is, Annabel, that it's not a kid. It's a dog. An animal. Stop carrying him everywhere."

"I-"

"Animal. Not baby."

With that, Lucas sat the dog down, who immediately rushed over to Whitney. She let out another shrill scream as he jumped on her leg.

"Oh, God, it's not, like, humping me, is it?"

"No, stupid," Annabel said, making a face.

"No." Lucas looked down at the dog, making a face at it. Snapping at it, he repeated loudly, "No."

"Great. He's the stupid whisperer," Owen mumbled before heading out of the room. He had been forced to come over by his girlfriend, who told him that her parents were having dinner for Whitney's boyfriend, as an apology. Which was kind of crap considering Owen got a lot of heck from Drew too, constantly almost, and he never got a freaking dinner in his honor.

"You gotta be forceful with animals, Annabel," Lucas was saying as the rest of them followed Owen into the living room. "You gotta treat them like they're beneath you. 'cause they are beneath you. You see? They're soulless creatures while we're the supreme beings. Just the way God designed it. I mean, it's almost like we're the god over animals."

"No," Whitney told him as she went to sit in the chair. "It's not anything like that."

"Kind of."

"Not really."

"We oversee their whole fate, Whitney. We control if they get put down or not. We feed them. We clothe them if you're into weird shit like that."

"I most definitely-"

"Are not," Owen finished for Annabel. "You most definitely are not."

"Owen-"

"No."

"My point is," Lucas said, making a face at the two of them for interrupting. "We control their fate. God controls our fate."

"We control our own fate. God just already knows the outcome," Whitney corrected.

"Therefore he controls it."

"No."

"Yes."

"You-"

"Can you train my dog or not?" Annabel finally asked, annoyed. "Because if so, Owen's going to be the one paying you twenty bucks."

"What?"

Annabel gave him a look. "You didn't pay for the last vet visit."

"He wasn't sick, Annabel."

"It doesn't matter, Owen. Good pet owners take their pet to the-"

"I'm not a good pet owner!"

"I've noticed!"

"Chill, guys," Lucas said as he went over to the chair Whitney was in and gave her a look. When she stood, he claimed his spot, quickly pulling her back into his lap. She let out this really girly giggle that made Owen's eyes widen slightly. "I'm not really going to make you guys pay me to train a dang dog."

"You're not?"

"Yeah, you're not?" Whitney echoed her sister.

"No," he said, his girlfriend settling more in his lap. "I'll just, you know, be over here a lot. Require some snacks is all."

"Owen can buy them."

"What is up with you and trying to get me to spend money all of a sudden, Annabel?" Owen asked with a frown. "I mean, seriously."

"You're the dad now, Owen."

"Yeah, for important stuff. Feeding Whitney's boyfriend isn't my job."

"It's cool," Lucas said, patting Whitney's stomach. "My chick doesn't even feed me."

"Oh, bull, Luke. I made you dinner last night."

"And did I eat?"

"Yes."

"Well, I was displeased."

"Says the seconds you had."

"I was being kind."

"Then what are you doing right now?"

"I've changed my attitude. I'm very viridian."

"…You mean versatile?" Whitney frowned up at him. "Viridian is a color."

"Viridian is a freaking city, babe," he corrected. "And yeah, I mean versatile."

"Where is Viridian?" Annabel asked, frowning.

"Hello," Lucas said, making a face at her.

"Hello what?"

"Pokemon," Owen told her. "It's from Pokemon."

"You're stupid," Whitney sighed, leaning back against her boyfriend. "You're very, very stupid."

Owen made a disgusted face at them while Annabel just looked down at her dog, who was sniffing the carpet.

"I think Kuma deserves a reward, right, Lucas?" she asked. "I mean, he hasn't jumped on anyone."

"Doesn't work that way," he told her simply. "And we're not training yet."

"Why not?"

"'cause it takes a lot of, you know, mental preparation."

"What?"

"Also, I'm hungry," he said. "Where are your parents? When's dinner?"

"You're so needy," Whitney said, reaching back to pat his face. "But seriously, Annabel, where are they?"

"Dad's not home yet and Mom had to run to the store. Uncle Dan's here…somewhere."

"Great." Whitney rolled her eyes as her sister went to sit down on the couch with her boyfriend. Kuma immediately jumped up there to be with her.

"Annabel, that's part of the problem. He's an animal. There's no way my mom would let one of my dogs on the couch. They only got to come inside if it was really hot out," Lucas said, shaking his head. "Make him get down. He's an animal. Make him sit on the floor."

"Why though? That just seems cruel."

"Man, my dad would have, like, whooped me, if I let my dog get on the couch. Dogs are dirty, Annabel," he said, speaking to her almost like she was a kid. Owen couldn't be offended though, as his father would have done the same thing. "If you let him get away with stuff like this, he's going to always thinks that he's the leader."

"Mmm, you know what I want, Luke?" Whitney stretched in his lap, causing him to still slightly. "A cat."

"Barf. No."

"Did you just bark?"

"Barf. I said barf."

"Did you bark at me?"

"Barf! I barfed on you!"

Owen groaned, looking at Annabel. Softly, he told her, "They're annoying. When's dinner?"

"Are you bored?"

"A little."

"You brought your little game thingy."

"For the last time, Annabel, the Gamecube is _not_ a little game thingy."

"Why don't you play it?"

"Because I thought it would be rude."

"When does that ever stop you?"

So Owen went to work setting up his game. He didn't have to be told twice. Family dinners were bad enough when you were having to partake them with your own family. Sitting through another one with your girlfriend's family, who apparently had made a promise to make every single dinner a nightmare for you, was not fun. In the slightest.

That's how Grace found them all some time later. Lucas and Whitney were still snuggled up on the chair, watching videos on her phone together, bickering randomly over trivial things. They would have been annoying to Owen, had he not been so zoned in on his game while his girlfriend sat next to him, bored, while petting her dog.

"Hello, Lucas," she greeted as she came into the living room, a single grocery bag in her hands. "And thank you for coming."

"It's no problem," he said as Whitney shifted in his lap. "Thank you for having me."

"When's Dad getting home?" Whitney asked. "Because I have work in the morning."

"Soon, sweetheart. In, probably, the next ten minutes."

"Alright," Lucas replied happily.

"Whitney, can you come help me in the kitchen real fast, though?" her mother asked. "And I almost finished the cake for dessert, but I need someone to ice it. Annabel-"

"Owen wants to do it."

"Owen does not," he retorted to his girlfriend.

"He does it he wants to stay for dinner."

"Owen wants to," he sighed, pausing his game before moving to stand.

In the kitchen, Whitney and her mother talked softly over by the stove while Owen sat at the table, frosting a cake while trying his hardest not to listen.

"-respectfully tonight."

"You're telling me?"

"I've told your father the same thing."

"Mom-"

"Whitney, please."

"What do you want me to do? If he's going to act like a jerk to Lucas, then-"

"He won't. I promise."

"How can you promise anything about him? Since his freaking brother's come back-"

"I know, honey. I just-"

"God, why can't he just leave? No one wants Dan here."

"Your father does. And he keeps saying that it's his house."

"Oh, is it? It's his house now?"

"Whitney-"

"Mom, I'm just tired of him, okay? He sucks. He literally sucks."

"I know, honey."

Owen was almost blushing, sitting over there, silently debating whether or not he should just leave, pretend like he heard nothing, or tell them that he heard everything. He was still debating as they started up again.

"Luke is only over here to make you happy anyways," Whitney said. "I didn't want to come, because I know how Dad's going to act, but he said that he felt bad for walking out on your lunch after you planned it around his schedule."

"I'm just sorry that we made him so upset."

"You didn't. Dad did. And he needs to-"

"I know, Whitney, but he's trying."

"He's failing."

"And you don't think that you've done things wrong before?"

"Oh, I know I have. Because he's the one that's always pointed it out."

"Whitney, he's just-"

"I'm not a little kid. He can't tell me who I'm going to date and who I'm not."

"We're trying to. Your father is just-"

"He's trying to control me just like he is Kirsten. Annabel might be fine with being controlled, but-"

"She is not being controlled."

"She is being controlled. She's always been controlled."

"In what way-"

"She never leaves the house. She just sits at his side and listens to his opinions on everything. Guess what, Mom? His opinions suck."

Owen couldn't help it then. He finally glanced back at them and asked, "Should I, uh, leave?"

Whitney glared at him then, but Grace only sighed.

"No, you're fine, Owen. Unless you really don't want to frost that. Honestly, I don't know why you're doing it."

"Annabel asked me to."

"She told you to," Whitney corrected with an eye roll. "There's a difference."

"Your boyfriend would know."

"What did you just say?"

"I-"

"Whitney, don't fight with your sister's friend," her mother sighed before turning back around to mess with something on the stove. "I mean, honestly."

Owen went back to his cake then. He was only frosting for a moment though before he felt someone flick him in the back of the head.

"Whatever is up between you and Lucas needs to die out," Whitney told him softly, leaning over close to his ear then so her mother couldn't hear. "I'm staying with him and Annabel's staying with you. Both for a long time. And my sister's been hanging around more which means you're hanging around more. If I'm dealing with them being friends, then you can too."

He got flicked again before she walked away. God, Whitney was more annoying than Annabel.

* * *

><p>True to her word, Grace had somehow managed to wrangle in her husband. At dinner, he was nearly silent, just sitting there while staring down at his food. His brother tried multiple times to start something up, but his attempts were silenced completely.<p>

"How is work going, Lucas?" Grace asked him eventually. Owen wasn't exactly sure what she was expecting though.

"Fine," he said, glancing at Whitney before back down at the meatloaf in front of him. Grace said she'd make him anything and he asked for meatloaf. Now Owen was stuck eating freaking meatloaf. God.

"It seems like a very…interesting job."

"It pays the bills," he said simply. Drew of course snorted at this, but he was wholly ignored other than a sharp look from his wife.

"Do you ever think about getting into something…else?"

She was reaching and Owen felt bad for her, but there was literally nothing else for anyone else to talk about. Even he was at a loss for words at the moment, though that was mostly because he was astonished with the fact that Annabel had been secretly feeding her dog under the table and had yet to be caught by anyone else.

"I've had other jobs, but none that were this good. I can sleep all day, hangout most of the afternoon, and then go to work. It's either this or be a nighttime security guard." He paused for a moment before smiling. "Hey, that may be next."

"No," Whitney said simply. "It won't be."

He shrugged slightly. "She likes the tips."

Annabel's father seemed to be holding his tongue quite well, but you could tell that he was straining. Owen just kept slyly watching Annabel from the corner of his eye. She was basically feeding the damn dog her whole plate!

"It seems like a good job for meeting new people."

"Guess so."

Whitney sighed loudly and Lucas gave her his best sympathetic look.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "Were we not talking about you enough?"

He got hit then, but it didn't stop him from snickering. Owen only sighed before pulling his phone out.

_Stuck at Annabel's. In Hell. Questioning why I even like coming here._

It didn't take long for Rolly to reply.

_Come hangout with me._

He frowned.

_Thought you were busy._

_Never said that._

Owen could have sworn he had, but truly, it didn't matter. He was stuck anyways.

_Maybe later. After I get out of here._

_Cool. Call me. We'll meet up._

_Cool._

With that happy thought, Owen quickly pocketed his phone, not shocked to find that, truly, nothing had changed. Grace was still rambling, Drew still looked pissed, and Whitney and her boyfriend were both trying to stay interested in her mother, but it was proving tough. Not to mention Dan was working on his fourth beer of the night, which was always a nice treat.

Oh, and Annabel was _still_ feeding the dog. Sigh.

After dinner and dessert, Owen headed off to the bathroom, planning on missing the part where Whitney and Lucas departed for the night. He didn't want to be around either of them any longer, honestly. They were annoying him more than the situation in general was.

"Why the hell were you texting Clarissa?"

Owen frowned when he got out of the bathroom, only to find Annabel standing _right outside the door_. God, could she, like, hear him pee? Was that possible? If so…was she turned off? …Or maybe on? …Was he?

"Wh-"

"Clarissa," Annabel said, holding up his phone then, as if for proof. He had a really dumb reaction then as he patted his pockets in hopes of finding his phone, as if the one she was holding was a fraud.

"Why do you have my-"

"Does it matter?"

"Yeah, it kind of does."

"No, it doesn't. You-"

"How did you-"

"You left it on the coffee table," she said. "Though that's not the point and you know it."

"I haven't text Clarissa in, like, a week."

"Bullshit, Owen. You just sent her a text that you want to meet up with her after you leave here." She literally threw his phone at him then and boy was she lucky that he caught it. Because if he hadn't and she had broken it, he'd have been mighty pissed. "If you don't want to come over to my place, don't. I don't care. But don't text other chicks while you're over here."

"I wasn't!"

"Oh, so you lie to me now?"

"I'm not lying to you, Annabel. And so you go through my shit now?"

"Don't play like you don't go through my phone too."

She had him there. "I-"

"Go then, Owen. And don't call me tonight. Or tomorrow. You know what? I can get a ride to school. Pick up Clarissa. Douche."

"I was texting…" He trialed off then as he finally looked at the phone. "Huh. I was texting Clarissa."

She turned on her heels then, heading off to her bedroom.

"Bella-"

She just closed the door in his face. Angered by this, Owen headed over to open it.

"Wouldn't, if I were you."

Owen turned to see Daniel coming up the stairs. He just scowled at the man. This didn't seem to faze him.

"She's pissed. Leave her alone and get out of here." The man headed over to Kirsten's bedroom. "Won't do you no good, sticking around."

He wanted to argue. He wanted to go finish his fight with Annabel. But still, the man did have a point. Owen truly, deep down, did not want to be at Annabel's. So she found out? Who cared? He hadn't wanted to hangout with her. He didn't want to eat dinner with her family. Now he was going to leave. That was it. That was truly the end of it.

So he left. On his way out, he had the misfortune of seeing Whitney and Lucas head out. They were in front of his car as he smoked a cigarette while she was talking rather loudly.

"Heading home, buddy?" Lucas asked him, blowing his smoke away from Whitney. "We're about to head out, but Whit here hates when I smoke with her in the car."

"And this is better?" he asked.

"This is compromise," she said with a shake of her head. "Why are you leaving so early? Annabel was yelling. We heard her. You guys fight?"

He hesitated, making it over to his car parked on the curb. Then, slowly, he said, "I meant to text Rolly."

"Okay," Whitney said, watching him. "And?"

"But I accidentally sent the text to Clarissa."

"Who is-"

"The whore he's cheating with," Whitney answered her boyfriend without letting him finish.

"I am not-"

"I was joking," she told Owen, just as flatly as she said anything. Lucas, who was sitting on the hood of the car by that point, laughed a little.

"You're funny, baby."

"You just finish your damn cigarette." Whitney crossed her arms, staring over at Owen. "What did you text Clarissa?"

"I meant to text Rolly. I-"

"Yeah, like I'm going to fall for that," she said with an eye roll. "What did you send?"

"I meant to send Rolly that I was bored at you guys' house and wanted to hangout. But I sent it to Clarissa and she saw, so-"

Lucas snickered. "So young and dumb. Let me guess, she actually has her name in your phone?"

"What?"

"In your contacts, is Clarissa's name actually her, you know, name?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't it be?"

He just shook his head before taking a drag of his smoke. "You gotta name her something else. Like Jake. Put her name in as Jake. Tell Annabel Jake is one of your boys. She'll never look at those texts."

"I don't lie to her."

Lucas laughed again. "You gotta learn to play the game, bro. You- Ow, Whitney!"

She pinched him again. "You shut up."

"I was fine with the hitting, but pinching does not fly. I have no qualms about pinching a chick back. Test me."

Owen just sighed, moving to get into his car. "I didn't mean to text Clarissa. Honest."

Whitney watched for a moment before saying, "I believe you. But where are you going?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you going home?"

"No, I-"

"Are you going to hangout with Clarissa?"

"I kind of told her that I would."

Whitney stood there for a moment before shaking her head at Lucas. "Come on, let's go. You're right. He is just young and dumb."

Lucas snickered again before dropping his cigarette on the ground and smashing it with the heel of his boot. "See you later, buddy. Better luck next time, huh?"

* * *

><p>"So she just flipped out on you?"<p>

"Yes! She always does it too. Every little freaking thing. Something as simple as I don't want to do anything on Friday and I'm in trouble."

Clarissa seemed legitimately concerned as she leaned forwards and laid a hand on his arm. Owen just sat there in the booth of World of Waffles, staring down at his slice of pie. He never really went there at night, but they were a twenty-four hour place. Empty, but open and Clarissa had yet to eat dinner.

"I didn't even mean to text you is the worst part."

That made her hesitate. "What?"

Owen nodded slightly. "You and Rolly and Annabel are the only three people I really text, so in my recent messages, your name was right under Rolly. I hit yours on accident. I meant to text Rolly. I thought we'd hangout at his house and play videogames."

Owen didn't think that she would take it so hard. He could see it though, on the other teens face. He had hurt her feelings. Oops. There went another one. God, was he just born not being able to talk to women or what?

"I'm sorry," he said then, shaking his head. "I really didn't-"

"No, I get it. I just thought you wanted to hangout. If you don't, I can-"

"No, I do," he told her, nodding his head slightly. "If I didn't, I wouldn't be here right now."

She just looked at him for a moment before sighing. "So are you going to call Annabel?"

"No. I don't know. I just…" He sighed, looking back down at his plate again. He wasn't really even hungry, he just felt awkward not ordering something. "It's always something. Always. I'm tired of there always being something to fight about. We can go days without actually saying anything nice to one another, but can't go ten hours without fighting."

She hesitated again, but that time said slowly, "I don't mean to, you know, step on any toes, but…are you sure that you're…with the right person? Or that you even want to be with that person?"

And it was back to that. It always went back to that. It was like he wasn't allowed to complain about Annabel to anyone. If he did, they always basically told him to suck it up and just move on from her. That wasn't fair. If your favorite show did something you didn't like and whenever you told someone about it, they told you to just stop watching, would you? Maybe some people would, but not Owen. It didn't make sense, you know? That if you put so much time into something that you would just give up before the end. That sounded like something a failure would do.

Needless to say, Clarissa was no help with anything, but he couldn't be too picky, as he was certain that she was still more useful than Rolly ever was. Then again, Kuma was probably more helpful than Rolly ever was in his entire life and the dog still didn't know not to poop on the carpet.

His mother was home when he got there, sitting on the couch, watching the television. He tried to just walk passed her, but she wouldn't let him. Which, honestly, he didn't blame her. They hadn't spoken in a few days. Not really.

"Come sit down, Owen."

He hated when she wanted to talk that way. When she wanted him to sit down. He had yet to learn anything good from sitting down with his mother. When they sat down, she either reprimanded him or told him horrible news. There was no good side to sitting down with her. And worse yet, there were times like the ones that he was about to have, where she wanted to have an open discussion in which all of his opinions were met with condescending, thought-numbing retorts.

The horror.

"Where were you?"

"I ate dinner with Annabel and then I went out with Clarissa."

"Mmmm."

He made a face. "I just went and talked to her, so I don't see why you're-"

"Why are you so defensive?"

"Because," he began, his anger bubbling back up to the surface once more. "Annabel got mad at me for texting Clarissa."

"Mmmm."

"Would you stop doing that?"

"I'm just digesting what you're saying is all, Owen."

He rolled his eyes. "I've said it before. I'm not into Clarissa. I can be friends with who I want to be friends with. End of story."

"I wholeheartedly agree and you know I do, so why are you telling me this?"

"Because it's not fair. Annabel thinks-"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, dear, but haven't I told you before that it's foolish to be so-"

"I'm tired of that too. It's not fair for you to always tell me that."

"To tell you what? The truth?" She patted him on the arm. "Cheer up, dear. You're graduating soon and here you are, worrying about some girl."

"I'm not worrying about some girl, Mom. I'm not worrying at all! I'm just done with Annabel trying to run my life. She just walked away from me when we were talking. What happened to open conversations? Huh?"

"Owen, you're both eighteen. She's going to walk away from every fight the two of you ever have. And given your anger problems, perhaps that's best."

"I'm done with that too," he raved on. "I have never even so much as raised a hand to Annabel, but everyone always wants to act like I have. That I hit her or something. I'm not going to fucking hit my girlfriend. My fucking God, Mom, how fucking-"

"Are you getting upset again?"

He jumped up then, angry with her more at the moment than he was the original problem at hand.

"I'm not going to hit her."

"I don't think you ever would, d-"

"Stop calling me that."

She let out a long sigh before looking back at the television. "Go to bed then, Owen. Or your room at least. I don't know what to do for you anymore, honestly."

"I didn't want to talk to you in the first place."

"Excuse me?"

"I said-"

"Go. Just go to your room and leave me alone. I have enough to deal with than your self-induced drama."

Why was it that every single woman in his life was full of shit? Why?

* * *

><p>She did the show without him. She sent him a text at five in the morning saying she had her car and would not be needing his assistance. If he wasn't still so pissed, he'd have gone up to the station anyways. But he was still pissed, so he didn't.<p>

He saw her a few times before lunch, but she wouldn't look at him and he didn't want to give her the satisfaction of looking at her. Of needing her. If she didn't need him, he didn't need her.

…Except he did. And he didn't have the balls to ditch her during lunch. He was afraid that she did have the balls though and was pleasantly surprised to find her waiting for him just like usual on their wall. Good. He didn't like the idea of having to go track her down.

Not that he was going to do that or anything. He wasn't, like, desperate or something. Because that would just be crazy. And he wasn't crazy. So…yeah.

"How was the show?"

"It was the show."

"I listened," he said, not able to help himself. He had, after all. He always did when he wasn't there.

"That's nice."

"Annabel-"

"I don't want to talk to you, Owen."

"Then why the hell did you sit in our normal spot?"

"Because if I hadn't, you'd have gone looking for me and made a scene."

Damn, was it that obvious?

"Then what do you want, Annabel?"

She didn't even pause to think. "I just want us to ignore one another for the day. I don't want to be around you today."

"What did I do? Text one of my friends?"

"Why do you have to be friends with her anyways?"

"Because, Annabel, I just am. And at least I tell you about it. I'm not hiding anything, am I? I mean, I'm not, like, changing her name to a guy's name in my phone, am I?"

He got a long look for that. "How did you know about that?"

"What?"

"Lucas text me last night after they left to never trust names in a guy's phone. When I text him back why, he told me he was just looking out for me."

"He's the freaking one who suggested I do that." Owen made a face. Asshole. Where was the loyalty?

"Oh, whatever."

"He was!"

"So what then, Owen?" she asked. It was probably pretty obvious to her that he was telling the truth about that. Lucas was seemingly crazy, after all. "You want brownie points for not cheating on me? Kudos to you."

"No," he said, angry once more. "I want you to acknowledge the fact that I never have and use that information to trust me."

"I don't think that you're going to do anything with her, Owen."

"Then the hell has this whole freaking thing been about anyways?"

"The fact that you were so bored in my house that you had to text another girl-"

"Rolly. I was trying to text Rolly."

"So? If you don't want to be with me, Owen, you tell me. You don't talk shit about me to your friends."

"I wasn't talking shit about you, Annabel. I was just saying that I didn't want to be around you."

"If I'm so boring, Owen, if my family sucks that badly-"

"You're not. They don't."

"-then just say no when I ask you to come over. Don't come hangout with me at my house anymore. Whatever. Do what you want. Just don't talk about me behind my back to your friends."

"I wasn't trying to," he insisted. Shifting closer, he said, "I love you, Bella."

"Owen-"

"I'm sorry. Is it better yet?"

"You-"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"You can't just-"

"I love you. I love you so much. Almost as much as I am sorry."

"Owen, knock it off."

"I'll buy you dinner. And whatever else you want. And I'll clean up after Kuma. Because I love you and our baby."

That made her groan loudly and he knew he had won. The deal was sealed when she rested her head against his shoulder.

"I hate you sometimes," she whispered to him softly.

"Yeah," Owen sighed. "I know."

So they were better then. They also didn't see each other the rest of the day, as Annabel had driven herself to school. He could only stay away from her for so long though. It was good in theory, hanging out with other people. Everyone says that that's the key to a healthy relationship, but still. He would always want to be around her.

Always.

"No one else is home," Annabel told Owen as she opened the front door. "And what do you want anyways?"

"To be with you."

"Oh, what? My house isn't boring?

He shook his head. "Not in the slightest."

"Owen," she groaned. "You know as well as I do that you don't really want to be here. So just go. I don't want to hangout with someone that doesn't want to hangout with me. I get it; you're sorry. That's great. Now leave me alone."

"Annabel, I-"

"Why do you do this, Owen? You yell and scream at me that you want space and when I try and give it to you, you suddenly decide that you want the complete opposite. God, you're like a freaking chick or something."

He took slight offense to that, but was too desperate at the moment to care.

Okay, so yeah, Owen was desperate. So freaking what?

"I'm just trying to spend time with you."

"Well, this door is closed on that, Owen. So why don't you-"

"Bella-"

"No." She moved back then, starting to close the door. "Go spend time with Rolly. Or Clarissa. I don't care. Just not me. Just not today."

Then she closed the door in his face. Again. How was it that he constantly lost? In every single thing he did, he constantly lost. Even in his own relationship.

Especially in his own relationship.

* * *

><p>"So hey, even though the status on you and Annabel isn't tight right now, has she mentioned Clarke to you at any point recently?"<p>

Owen glared at his best friend. "No, Rolly. Clarke hasn't come up. And I thought that you two were completely and utterly done."

"We are."

"Then why-"

"I heard that she was, you know, hanging around some guy."

"What guy?"

"You wouldn't know him."

Well, that was true enough.

"Why does it matter to you anyways?"

"I still care about her, Owen."

"Not much, apparently."

"What do you mean?"

"You cheated on her. Like, almost every time you dated her, you cheated on her."

"So? I can still care about her in other ways. Her feelings for the most part are annoying to me, sure, but I still loved her in that moment. Err, in certain moments at least."

Owen groaned before focusing back in on the videogame he was playing. They were over at his house, using the fact that his mother was out to do whatever they wanted. Considering all they wanted to do was play Xbox though, that wasn't too hard to accomplish. "And anyways, I think her and Annabel are on the outs or something. They aren't talking anymore. Or at least she doesn't bring her up."

"Maybe it's because she knows that we're friends, me and you, and that you probably wouldn't want to hear about my ex constantly."

"Maybe."

"Besides, I don't really want to talk about her anyways. You know thow much I hate Annabel."

Owen rolled his eyes. "You do not hate Annabel. You're just mad because she told you off."

"She didn't tell me off. I told her off."

"Oh, whatever."

"See, you think that this is just going to blow over, don't you?"

"Yes, Rolly, because it is."

"But no, it's most certainly not," he said with a shake of his head. "Annabel and I are never going to be friends again. I don't know why I tried it in the first place. Being platonic friends with a chick for no reason. Ha. Stupid. Dumb. Waste of time."

"You have tons off platonic chick friends."

"Yeah, Owen, but I'm still allowed to think about how it would be if I was, like, with them. But I can't with her because you're all stuck on her or whatever and have dibs."

Owen blinked. He wanted to reach over and hit his friend, but alas, he was up on the couch, while Rolly was lying flat on his back on the floor.

"So no, Owen. Annabel and my friendship is completely over. She's a bitch."

"Watch it."

"You were saying it too when you first called me. After she…what did she do again? Close the door in your face or something?"

"You know exactly what happened."

"Yeah, cause you've said it half a thousand times." Rolly sighed. "You think you'd be bored of getting so angry over nothing."

"What?"

"You heard me. You're over here pouting because you got exactly what you wanted? Makes complete sense, Owen."

"Why don't you shut up, Rolly?"

Of course he didn't listen. Of course not.

"I mean, why are you shocked anyways? Annabel goes through your phone all the time. All the time. You know that. You always say that you're open as a book, right? Well, she read the first page and didn't like it. So? Get over it. She's forgiven you. She even let you off the hook about hanging out today. So just be happy. God."

"I can see why Annabel hates you. You sit down there and diminish any other problem that anyone else has as fake or worthless, but then think that we should all hear about how hard it is for you to get laid twenty-four seven. Well guess what, Rolly? No one cares. No one cares about your overly privileged life in which you get everything except sex at the exact moment you want it. So fuck you."

"Fuck you, dude. Seriously. God, now I know why she's mad at you." Rolly jumped up then, heading towards the front door. "I'm going to totally make up with Annabel now and never talk to you again. She's right. You are a jerk."

Owen just stared at his television screen as his friend left. Maybe it's not just women he's bad with; maybe Owen just sucks at human relations in general.

* * *

><p><strong>Not gonna lie, running out of titles and summary ideas. Can you tell?<strong>


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